Slow Graffitti

There's a portrait
In a back room
Which I keep for days upon
Which I relent
And gaze for hours on the muscle, skin, and bone
Of some imaginary friend

So how about it?
Show me, please, how I will look in twenty years
And let me please interpret history
In every line and scar that's painted there in front of me

It doesn't matter what I'm thinking
What I tell myself to do
I'll end up calling

I stay in to defrost the fridge
Now the kid has gone to bed
A feeling of dread
At least when she's around
The trouble's there
It's worse to wake up with her falling around the room

Listen, Johnny
You're like a mother
To the girl you've fallen for
And you're still falling

Listen, Johnny
You're like a mother to the girl you've fallen for
And you're still falling
And if they come tonight
You'll roll up tight
And take whatever's coming to you, boy